


Blanks

by Anonymous



Category: Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Paralysis, Restraints, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 00:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: If he wants to merely idle, he'll kiss once. If he wants sex, he'll kiss twice.Tonight he kisses twice, and Shadowman feels blood.





	Blanks

**Author's Note:**

> Was going through google drive and found this thing I'd written all the way back in 2015! For years, I honestly thought I'd lost this fic. Skimming over it, it's not so bad, so I figured I'd upload it here in the hopes that someone will enjoy it. I haven't done any editing aside from minor spelling errors (lol @ my younger self for using the word "alligatoring" as a descriptor). 
> 
> If this is OOC or canon-divergent, I apologize. I legitimately don't remember enough about MM to make a confident call. 
> 
> The dub-con tag refers to some non-consensual alien drug nonsense, but for the most part consent is openly discussed and agreed upon (@my younger self.....interesting contrast). Other than that, the only other warning that applies is some descriptions of injuries (though not enough for a 'graphic descriptions of violence' tag).

Blues almost never asks for consent with words. He slips his hand into the side of Shadowman's hammock, the edges of black and red metal brushing. Shadow will roll onto his side, Blues holding the hammock steady for him ere he joins. He'll wrap his arms around Shadow, bring his lips to the other's neck. If he wants to merely idle, he'll kiss once. If he wants sex, he'll kiss twice.  
  
Tonight he kisses twice, and Shadowman feels blood.  
  
Open the scene up: imagine the sleepy rabbit frightened by the sound of clanking metal; imagine all the plethora of stars out tonight, peeping out clouds like shy children; imagine the green light of a mechanism bursting to life, holding thick ropes in place. Shadowman rolls over, which Blues has taken as go to straddle him, wiping his chin with the back of an ungloved hand. There are scratches down his cheeks, down his bare chest, tape on what must holes in his synthetic skin, oil dripping out his mouth-- Shadow grabs his face with both hands.  
  
"Don't ask," Blues says, so quietly Shadow can hardly hear him. Blues turns his head to kiss at Shadow's palms.  
  
He mounts him in nothing but pants and injuries and doesn't want to talk about it. Shadow bites a harsh impulse. "Your glasses are new," he says. "I didn't think Megaman was as callous as to smash them."  Shadow doesn't want to imagine what must have happened to his lover's helmet if his personal shades have been damaged--- what must have happened that his shield proved insufficient. None of the current DWNs have moved beyond the training state; none are also arrogant enough to try to keep the first DLN from taking first blood.  
  
"It wasn't him," Blues whispers. Kisses Shadow's other hand as he slides his own hands over them, fingers between fingers. "I'm not going to talk about it."  
  
Shadow opens his mouth, only for Blues to press a finger to it, a small shush falling off his own lips before he smirks and licks his upper one. Shadow lets Blues kiss him, oil mixing with that alien sweet taste always behind Shadow's teeth. Blues pushes one of his hands up under his helmet, into his hair as he wraps an arm around his neck, pulling Shadow close-- fast enough to get a grunt as reply.  
  
  
Shadow pulls away. Blues responds to his lover's scowl with a smile, by pulling off his helmet, revealing hair that feels like wire, looks like velvet, simply black in the bad light.  
  
"I'm not doing anything with you if you won't tell me what's wrong."  
  
Blues lowers his shades just to show his eyes roll. Sighs.  
  
"You know I'm not comfortable--"  
  
"I'm okay." Here he takes the glasses off completely, stares into Shadow's eyes with ones once wholly blue now marred with pixels of yellow, green, red static. But not anymore than usual. "Sex is just a good pain reliever."  
  
"For humans."  
  
"Oh, _now_   you don't wanna play pretend? Would you be saying that if I were wearing your fishnets?"  
  
Shadow titters, looks away from Protoman as he clasps his hands at the base of his lover's back. "You shouldn't keep making offers you won't go through with."  
  
Blues shrugs. "They look better on you."  
  
Shadow sighs, but with a smile. "I'm not going to have sex with you, Blues."  
  
"Then let me just--"  
  
"Let _me_ pleasure _you_."  
  
Blues closes his mouth.  
  
"You said it was a pain reliever."  
  
"That would be more gratifying if both of us were enjoying it." Blues leans in again, planting kisses along Shadow's jaw, down his neck. Shadow runs his hands up Blues' back, cranes his head back on instinct. Blues releases Shadow's hair to tug down his suit, kissing to his clavicle, the hand with his shades still raised above them. Shadow doesn't notice as Proto's fingers twirl, closing the shades ere he drops them unceremoniously to the ground.  
  
Shadow kisses Blues' hair, rubs his back in circles. "Who said I don't enjoy pleasuring you?"  
  
Two hands in his hair. Shadowman groans as Blues' mouth covers his Adam's apple, tracing the alphabet with his tongue. Blues pulls his head back, lips parting from Shadow's skin with a wet, soft pop as he runs his tongue along a conduit vein, up Shadow's throat. Shadow's voice thrums. And then Blues bites--  
  
Shadow pushes him away. "No. Blues, I won't do this. You know I have principles."  
  
"Stupid ones."  
  
"Says the--" Shadow bites his tongue.  Blues' face shows he knows what Shadow was about to say. And it feels like a punch in the gut, but Shadow knows not to try to apologize. "Generosity is as painful as meanness," it's been said. He sighs. "Let's not fight about this," and places a hand on Proto's cheek. "I'm just trying to make sure you feel safe. Why do you have to be so difficult?"  
  
A little shrug. "I like pissing you off."  
  
That's his opening. Blues finds himself on his back in a second, his hands pinned onto the ropes above him. The hammock creaks; Shadow intertwines their fingers. "Then I guess the feeling is mutual," he whispers, "because I am going to fuck that out of you, and you don't get to _touch_ me."  
  
Blues' lips are crushed before he can react. Shadowman's hands roam his body, ghosting over the sensitive spots on his hips, his sides, bringing goose flesh where he goes. Shadow tastes sweeter than honey...  
  
He hooks his fingers under Blues' knees, spreading them until the inside of his thighs ache, but still Blues grinds his hips up into the DWN. The heat already in his ears builds to a flame beneath his skin--and Shadow nibbles a lobe, flicks his tongue over the shell.  Blues mewls, digging his fingers into black mesh and chain mail. There's something ....something ....  
  
Blues grinds his hips up with as much force as he holds Shadow's down; consent falls off his lips in breathy pants, again and again. He feels a growing bulge push painfully against his own, the heat of Shadow's cheeks radiating off of him. A strange, cooler heat rushing through his body in waves as Shadow nibbles on his ear, kisses down his throat. But...  
  
"Are you this vocal with everyone?" Shadowman asks.  
  
Blues desperately kisses along the shoulder pinning him down. "Just you, Shadow." He happily thrums as Shadow runs his nails up his back, arching up. "Only for you." Blues smashes their lips together for a minute, two, before he falls back into the hammock with a sigh. "So what did you drug me with?"  
  
Shadow flushes.  
  
"I felt it run down my throat. What is it?" He asks with a lazy smile.  
  
Shadow man takes his hands and digs his thumbs into the palms. Then something pops.  
  
Blues' cry rings out in the night; animals scatter; owls take flight. Blues arches his back so hard and high his spine would snap were he a human, waves of intense pleasure swallowing him whole-- his once-budding erection, slow to grow owing to his core, now a rock dressed in fake skin and leaking literal pints, rivulet stains blossoming down his thighs.  
  
Blues can't find words between his harsh gasping as the fire ebbs to a warm _joie de vivre_. Shadow lets go of Blues' hands; they drop unceremoniously. Blues cannot find words or strength, now; he can only watch as Shadow man slips the top of his suit over his head.  
  
"That fluid you noticed is a nanobot-laced serum my, well," a rolling hand gesture, "people use sometimes during mating. I'm sure you've noticed all its effects. I've had it turned off for so long, Dr. Wily didn't even know I had it." Shadow leans down until noses brushes. He whispers, "Your vocal processors should recover from shock in a minute or two, but your control of your limbs will be shut off for at least the next half-hour." Protoman feels a thumb run over his bottom lip. "I'm only doing this to bind your hands, I promise. If you want me to stop anything, tell me to stop."  
  
A pause. Eye contact. Then Shadow lifts Blues' leaden arms and ties his wrists to the  hammock's ropes with the top half of his habiliments. There's a buzz-- the mechanisms holding the hammock up begin to lower, one to the ground, the one with Protoman's wrists only until he's roughly propped up against the tree.  
  
"I'm only using this because you never let me pleasure you." Shadow begins to undo the buckle of Blues' belt, glancing up for approval.  
  
Protoman finds he's able to nod, but still says, after a short, glitchy cough, "You're the only person in the entire cosmos who complains about getting too much head."  
  
But Shadow is right: whatever favor given is always denied a return, hand or head. Shadow isn't allowed to touch the prototype's dick unless he's already behind him. Even in fantasy, Blues finds himself focusing almost solely on pleasuring his partner, never receiving it. That's where the encounter ends, the dream begins to lose its poignancy.  
  
Blues has wondered if he thinks, deep-down, that he simply doesn't deserve it.  Ow, the edge.  
  
"You're the only person in the entire cosmos who _doesn't_ complain about getting too little," Shadow replies. "You're also, paradoxically, the third most selfish, narcissistic creature I've ever known."  
  
Blues chuckles. "Which one of these fuckers beat me?"  
  
"Gemini is second; my old boss is first," he says as he frees Protoman's cock from its cup and covering. A thick, loose-fleshed specimen, reminiscent more of a cloth-covered rod than a human organ--even the thick wire-veins running up the length are wrapped too circular for a human.  
  
If countless throes with Blues have taught him anything, it's superior design.  
  
The cold night is needles along the sodden flesh of his organ, strained as tall as it can be, crimson red and dripping clear. Shadow pulls the gray suit to his ankles. He drinks in the sight of his lover and, of course, feels his pants grow even tighter.  
  
Blues quirks an eyebrow as Shadow leers over him on his hands and knees, raking his eyes over the frame beneath him again and again.  
  
"Like what you see?"  
  
Shadow grabs as much ass as he can carry and pulls up Blues' hips to meet his own. His legs between Proto's, he spreads them wider still as he inches closer, precum smearing on his pants and stomach. "Yes."  
  
They moan into each other's mouths.  
  
" _God_ ," Shadow pants into the nano-angstrom between them when they part, Protoman once again sitting on his thighs ...naked, tied up, and....flushed and...breathless...  
  
Blues mewls as Shadow claws down his back. Shadow threads his fingers through Blues' hair and kisses him roughly again. And again. And again. Drinking down his gasps and moans like sweet elixir.  
  
Shadow pants in his mother tongue, a warbled language punctuated by tinny stresses and clicks, like his binary translator was shot. Blues doesn't know he's just asked, "How did I end up with someone as beautiful as you?" Still, the affectionate tone does not go unnoticed.  
  
But he can't find the words through hazy joy, can't tell Shadowman he loves him (does he?) until he hears the words first in a tongue he understands. "Same," is all he can manage. That, and a smile, a peak on his lips.  
  
Shadowman titters as he stares into those glitch-marred eyes, digits loosening in Blues' hair. Electricity pulses in time between them, in their cheeks and in their crotches. A new wave of lubricant has risen out of Blues, coating the line of thin synthetic skin and fiberglass-eque scales that run above his waistline.  
  
Blues bites his lip--he can see the lust literally clouding Shadow's dark eyes. If he plays his cards right, they can both get what they want.  
  
But Shadow suddenly flushes and looks away, withdrawing to grip the fabric on his thighs. "N..." He dares glance at Blues' bruised lips. Darting his eyes away. "No. No, I'm not doing this."  
  
Shadowman rolls his eyes hard enough to pop them out as Blues wiggles his eyebrows. The offender wishes he had a shirt collar to pull down and a desk upon which to spread-eagle. But before he can speak, a finger presses his lips as Shadowman begins to scoot back, hand accidentally finding shades in the grass. "I'm going to pleasure you," he says as he unfolds the glasses, slips them back into his lover's face. "And only you. And that's that."  
  
Protoman has long realized this has become a matter of consistency over concern. Still, though his organ aches impatiently, he says, "Shadow, I'm not asking you to take advantage of me, I'm asking you to _make love_ to me." A small smile tugs his lips. And he hates to be this sappy (does he?) but if Shadow can't be subtle in personal matters, well, neither will he. "I trust you."  
  
"I'm glad." Shadow isn't looking at him-- he's looking at Blues' cock, grasping it loosely, thumb just brushing over the pink head. Blues bites his lip. Shadow smirks, running a finger about the flesh circling Blues' hilt as he rakes his eyes up and down his paramour. "But why don't you love yourself, first?"  
  
"Wha-?"  
  
Shadow slides his hand and squeezes. "You love yourself, really? With that hair? Or that scarf you're always wearing--"  
  
Blues hisses, "You're lucky you tied me up," through a wall of teeth.  
  
Shadow's nano-bots have so overloaded Blues' dispensers the precum wets between his fingers. He loosens his grip as he slides his hand back down, tightening on the way up again. Blues thrums lowly as Shadow pumps him. He tries to hide his face in his shoulder, but Shadow grabs Blues' chin and holds his head forward, speeding up his ministrations. Crackling electricity dances up his legs, into a hot ball of lead in his stomach. The slight alligatoring of Shadow's skin sends moans into his throat and trembles to his core; when Proto gasps, they both can hear the fans in his throat whirling.  
  
"Do you like that?" Shadow asks, his voice so quiet Blues can barely hear it over his own bliss.  
  
Blues bites his lips.  
  
Shadow smirks.  
  
Shadow scoots back further, opening Blues' legs as he leans down and begins to kiss the side of his knee, trailing up his thigh, occasionally nipping or licking as he lavishes the blemished skin with affection.  
  
Blues' skin strains against itself, tightening as fresh arousal bubbles in his wires, his stomach, his crotch. He smothers a whine as Shadow grips him again, absently stroking the length with his thumb as he licks up the inside of his thigh.

 _"Do you like that, Blues?"_ __  
  
Blues buries his face in his shoulder, but the scarlet ears are more than enough.  
  
"Give it up, Blues." Shadow sinks his teeth into Blues' thigh, eliciting a shaky gasp, a visible trembling beneath his flesh as his wiring struggles to buck his hips. Shadow runs his tongue over the bite marks, starting to pump Blues again in a slow, _firm_ rhythm. "I'm not going to do it until you answer the question."  
  
  
Something muffled.  
  
Shadow bites him on the other thigh and kisses for every individual tooth.  
  
Muffled.  
  
Shadow, panting heavily, his breath as hot as an oven, runs his tongue flat along the tiny bump beneath Blues' shaft where his balls would be.  
  
Blues thrums half in exasperation, half bliss.  
  
_"Do you like that, Blues_?" His voice hardly above a whisper.  
  
Shadowman looks so handsome, even without good moonlight. Chiseled, hard features, a face not un-human, not unlike the other robot masters, but not --- not quite. His lips are a smile, not a smirk, and his black eyes are both fiery and soft.  
  
Up. Down. Up. Down. Bite marks throbbing. Wires fruitlessly pushing for actions that have no outlet, except for one place.  
  
Well, one _other_ place.  
  
Blues turns his head forward, cheeks painted a red brighter than his helmet, lips freshly bruised, panting softly as he finally surrenders to the black, so-seemingly reticent robot master. " _Yes_."  
  
Shadow lowers his lips to Blues' organ, gives an experimental lick to the head, swirling around the thick beads of clear, tasteless pre-ejaculate. He runs his tongue down one side of the shaft, down to the hilt, the trimming of skin around it he nips and nibbles before swapping sides and doing it all again.  
  
Blues can feel his arms tremble, just so.  
  
Shadow goes on like this for awhile: tracing his conduit veins, kisses his head, lapping up the lubricant on his shaft in long, slow strokes. Blues groans, pants, mewls as Shadow lavishes all the right places, a sudden surplus of 'yes's flooding off his lips.  
  
The cloth around his wrists is too loose.  
  
Shadow glances up, mirth in his eyes, before he forms a tight seal around  Protoman and plunges his head down. Proto hits the back of his throat, spongy with bumps of something harder. He whimpers as his lover pauses, his lips brushing the thin, soft hairs about the hilt, most of which, --and he'll always chuckle at this-- has been trimmed into a southern arrow.  
  
" _Fuck_."  
  
Jesus, he's _hot_. The fans in Shadow's throat do nothing to lessen the humid heat that encompasses Blues' cock. Shadowman pulls his head up, sucking so hard he can feel Blues' pulse on his tongue. Blues' breath shakes, fans hissing. Shadow releases his lover with a loud pop, pumping him again as he gives his head a few licks, and then lowers his head once more. Sucking, bobbing his head for a few minutes before he pumps him again.  
  
" _Ah_ \- S-Shadow, _ah- fuck._ Yes. Jus' like that."  
  
Shadow lets his hands wander as, this time, he settles at the base, suckling lazily on the pounding pulse, rubbing the bite marks on thighs, cu--  
  
Shadow feels hands in his hair. Grip hard, then softening, either owing to tenderness or an incomplete return of power to the limbs. Protoman lolls back into the tree, his hips raising up into Shadow's face as he fingers trail down to his cheeks, thumbs brushing just over his eyes. So tenderness, then. Shadow returns the favor, pushing his head down until his lover hits the back of his throat, shifting his tongue along the underside as best he can.  
  
Blues thrums, whispering praise under his breath as one dark hand reaches his chest, the other slung over his stomach, bracing his elbows on either side. Blues grips the hand on his pec; the other holds Shadow's head. His subconscious processors careful to block his more primitive impulses-- he knows Shadow hates having his head forced down. Every wire and nut and bolt in his body is light, a huge knot being pulled tighter, tighter as Shadow pulls back again, suckling harshly.  
  
"F-fuck, _yes_ , yes--"  
  
Shadow begins bobbing his head furiously, taking only quick pauses for breath and hand.  
  
"YES, _aah_! Y-you're gonna make me cum--"  
  
"Oh god, oh god, fuck."  
  
Blues' pleasure sounds better than his whistling, but don't tell him he said that.  
  
Blues thrusts his hips up as he cums. He cries out. He gasps and mewls as the knot is unraveled. Shadowman keeps his lips' seal around Blues tight, even though the orgasm is dry, rocking his tongue as the pulse in his mouth races and slows. The fingers in his hair tighten, hold his head in place, but don't try to shove-- as if they even could, with the full of length of Blues' cock in his mouth. As the organ in his mouth spasms, Shadowman smiles, and thrums, even as Blues' grip on his hand wants to break it.  
  
Blues goes limp with a sigh.  
  
Shadow releases the prototype and rubs his damp lips on the back of his hand. As he rises to his knees, however, Proto yanks him by the other, wraps his arms around the Wily bot and nuzzles into his neck. His breath is still ragged against Shadow's skin-- and a certain patch of his own skin is still awfully tight against his pants, but he'll manually override his sexual system if he can't take care of it soon enough.  
  
"I'd give that," Blues says, "a pretty solid six outta ten."  
  
He gives out an unaffected "ow" as Shadow smacks him upside the head. But he snuggles closer, prompting Shadow to slide atop his thighs, erection pressing into his stomach. Blues begins to trail his hand down Shadow's back, lightly kiss on his shoulder. "I can..." He whispers, but Shadow bumps his hand away.  
  
"I'll take care of it."  
  
He feels Blues frown against his flesh, before nuzzling harder, nails nearly breaking the scales at the base of his back.  
  
Shadow pushes him back into the tree, moonlight finally spilling onto them, a polished saucer in the reflection of Blues' shades. Blues is smiling at him, a small, crooked thing. His cheeks and ears are still flushed, the light dusting of freckles at last apparent in the combination of blood and effulgence. The tiny cuts on his lips (his, Shadow's fault, or another's?), the bruises on his clavicle, the side of his neck.....  
  
Shadow brushes his thumb over Blues' cheeks, visage expressionless as he studies him. As Blues starts to raise an eyebrow, Shadow pushes his glasses up, and kisses him under one eye. Blues pecks his chin in return, before Shadow tilts his head down and brings their lips back together.  
  
Suddenly Shadow breaks the kiss, leans their foreheads together. "Six out of ten," he mutters, then titters and says, "You son of a bitch."


End file.
